


Pride is a Dog that won't hunt

by CigaretteInk



Series: Jaded Fade Lover [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Funny, Humor, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7065373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CigaretteInk/pseuds/CigaretteInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Love Poultice No. 9. Fen'Harel's agent uncovers a terrible plan hatched by the other members of the Pantheon: the assassination of Mythal. As Fen'Harel tries to prevent her death he finds he has become the enemy of Elvhenan and is now being hunted. Now he must attempt to stop the Gods and create a rebellion that will free the people from subjugation by the new, chaotic Pantheon. Drama, angst and of course, humor! Give it a shot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This summer was unusually hot and humid for Arlathan. 

The keepers and caretakers of the Temple of Fen’Harel tried to maintain the various ice pools throughout the temple, but the heat was simply too persistent. Congregations around the cooling pools were a common sight and even Solas was finding the heat annoying to say the least.

The evenings were by far the worst, especially when he was needed past reasonable hours. The sun had only set an hour before and the sweat accumulating under his armor was aggravating as he waited for his informant to appear.

The light filtering in from the balcony was the only light he permitted in the room as he sat in the shadows, smoking his pipe in boredom as he waited. The faint sound of a door latch being slowly pulled had taken his attention away from the smoke lingering in the air and brought it to the hooded figure entering the room, sealing the door behind them.

“I keep you waiting long?” The man occupied the seat across from Solas, crossing their legs as they leaned back in a display of coolness to their host.

“I’ve been waiting months for your correspondence. I would have feared you were discovered and killed, but the others have made no mention of any spies.” Placing the pipe on an elevated table next to him, Solas waited patiently for a response.

“I had taken my time gathering a few things before sending word. It does take work to be a good spy, you know.”

“My understanding was a good spy is efficient in their work.” With the heat in the night causing chaffing under his armor, Solas’ temper was short; simply not in the mood to entertain when feeling the weight of his sweat soaked hair run drops down his neck.

“I dare you to find a better one, my friend! Plus, I have more than enough here to douse that mood.” Pulling a thick tome from his belt, the man opened it to find many notes and letters nestled between the blank pages. Tossing them one by one to his patron as he read each carefully by the light outside, Solas nodded and gathered the notes into a neat pile on the table.

“These are missives for high priests and knights?” His guest nodded in agreement, bright white teeth grinning back through an arrogant smirk.

Solas did not return the smile. The orchestrated plans on the pages had illustrated a plan more threatening than he originally anticipated. “Under whose allegiance were these letters penned?” Solas could feel a weight drop from his heart to his stomach.

“You won’t like it my friend. It’s all of them.” 

“What do you mean all of them?” Solas couldn’t help the volume in his voice as he demanded his answer.

“I mean, everyone from Elgar’nan to Andruil; save you of course. The entire Pantheon wants their hand in this. Bad news, eh?” Solas didn’t appreciate the apathetic tone, but there were more important things to consider at this moment.

“So...” the man began, “how does one go about thwarting the assassination of a God, by seven other Gods? Why not let it happen?”

“No, Mythal must endure. Without her influence the Pantheon collapses into chaos. They will be nothing more than rabid dogs pulling for each scrap left behind.” Solas wiped the sweat from his brow as best he could through his gauntlet, but this only amplified his frustration.

“Her influence? Yeah, her influence is doing her well lately. She’s just a lid on a boiling pot.” Standing from his chair, Solas began to slowly walk toward the door with the notes in hand. The man followed him to the empty hall of the temple, picking his oak staff out of the decorative foliage in a large ornate planter before tapping the dirt from its point.

Solas continued walking until he was at the foot of the stairs leading to the tower where his eluvian was guarded, looking back to see his confidant leaning against his staff as he waited for his final order for the evening.

“I need to talk with Mythal. You need to be there with me.” The face on the man went from jovial to severe as quickly as the sentence was uttered.

“That compromises my position, doesn’t it?” Straightening his back, the man appeared for the first time that evening to be serious.

“It no longer matters, Felassan. You will meet me here tomorrow morning to discuss this in greater detail. You are dismissed” With no further argument, both men parted ways in the great hall, eager to rest before their task .


	2. Chapter 2

“Hold still, please.”

The weariness in Dahlia’s voice was thick. Dropping to her knees, she turned up the sheet on the table, searching for her little patient.

“Mamae! No! Mamae!” The small child looked more like a cornered cat, pressing his back against the leg of the table. Dahlia made a half-hearted attempt to grab the child, but the boy simply ducked from her grasp, pulling the sheet off the table as he ran out into the main waiting room.

Dahlia sighed as she wiped the sweat from her brow before tightening her hair tie. Walking out to see the young lad nestling his face into his mother’s bosom, Dahlia just gave her a tired stare. The heat wave was affecting everyone in Arlathan; even Dahlia couldn’t keep up her normally assertive character. 

Dahlia gave the weary mother a pleading gaze, begging her to bring the child back into the room for his examination. The mother, feeling much of the same lethargy as her, wrapped her frightened child in the sheet he brought with him and walked into Dahlia’s room.

The overwhelming scent of medicinal herbs hit the mother senses, causing her to scrunch up her nose in disgust as Dahlia led her to a chair in the corner of the room. Pulling a stool up to her patient, she tried once more to have the child heed her orders. 

“Please open your mouth.” But the child refused to remove his face from his mother’s chest. “I don’t know what to do Lady Lavellan. It bothers him, but he won’t let me near his mouth.” The mother was clearly at her wits end and the heat just made it worse.

Standing up from her stool, she walked over to her alchemy table and pulled an empty cup from the shelf above along with a few other jars. Pouring water into the cup she took a few leaves and roots from the jars and ground them into a fine powder before placing it in the cup to steep. Pulling a few berries left over from her earlier meal, she squeezed the juice into the cup until the water turned red.

Giving the concoction a quick stir, she walked back over to the child and gave his mother the brew. 

“It’s very hot, isn’t it? Would you like some juice to cool you down?” The boy nodded his head, face still buried as his mother tried to coax him out to take a sip of the drink.

As soon as the boy managed to swallow a mouthful of the drink, his face contorted at the foul elixir. “What did you give him?” The mother asked, almost worried that she unknowingly poisoned her son.

Dahlia gave a feint gasp in surprise, “Your tooth? It doesn’t hurt anymore!” Dahlia tried to play off her role as sweat began dripping into her eyes.

The boy took a few seconds to realize that it was true, his tooth no longer hurt. He smiled up at his mother, clearly happy to be rid of the pain that plagued him. “Can you point to which tooth it was?” Dahlia tried to put on her most innocent smile, waiting for the boy to open his mouth and point to the offending tooth. Dahlia took a quick look inside to see the problem: a tooth had broken through his gums and was nestled in behind his milk tooth.

“Wow! Isn’t that-” without warning Dahlia used her magic to envelop the molar and pull the tiny tooth out, leaving the boy in shock as he threw his hands over his mouth. Placing the tooth on the desk next to her, she fished out a small vial of blue liquid and handed it to the mother. “If it hurts just put a drop on it. Next!”

****  
Solas and Felassan walked up the mighty stairs before Mythal’s temple, flanked by the guards and priests of the sanctuary as they made their way inside. Felassan kept his hood up as they both entered the great hall, only to be stopped by a sentinel bearing Mythal’s vallaslin.

“Dread Wolf. We did not receive word of your intent to witness Mythal. Please state your business here.” The priest held him in as much regard as other person to call upon his Mistress; a man of little fear and dedication to his role.

“It is a matter of urgency that I meet with her. I believe her life is in great danger.” The sentinel glared into Solas’ eyes, trying to ascertain the truth from his plea. “Follow me.”

Motioning the other sentinels to close the grand doors to the great hall, the leader escorted them into a massive antechamber where a grand Eluvian stood locked and dark.

Walking up the grand mirror, the sentinel placed his hand on the surface, whispering the words to unlock the way into Mythal’s domain. Standing to the side to allow them passage, Solas and Felassan stepped through the Eluvian before being followed by the Sentinel. 

Locking the Eluvian behind them, they turned to see a field of nature and beauty, marred by the violence and blood which painted the trails. Before Solas could even fathom what was amiss, the Sentinel rushed passed them to the pergola of trees and flowers. Following behind him, Solas and Felassan followed as swiftly as they could before coming upon the horrific sight of Mythal, gored and lifeless as her body sat pinned by arrows and swords to her throne.


	3. Chapter 3

The powerful smell of rusting iron and fire kept Solas’ senses grounded in reality. The scene was barbaric and felt dreamlike in this reality between worlds. Solas wished this was just a horrible dream brought on by nightmares of fear and torment, but the smell was strong enough to wake the sleeping.

Felassan kept quiet as he waited for the others to move. From his perspective he felt as though his message was not brought in time to prevent this catastrophe, and he hoped Solas would not make that connection.

The Sentinel shook his head in disbelief as he witnessed the horrible fate of Mythal. Her body sat against the bloody throne, head drooping forward as though she were studying the gilded sword that pierced her chest. Broken arrow shafts protruded from her body in a grisly display. 

“This cannot be!” The Sentinel was the first to speak. “She cannot be slain! A God cannot be slain!” His words were mixed with disbelief and fear, unable to take his eyes away from his fallen Goddess.

“Dread Wolf, Fen’Harel.” A deep voice called to Solas from behind them. They turned around to see the figure of a man clad in shinning golden armor, emblazoned with an image depicting the sun across his chest. 

“What have you done?” The man looked down his nose at the three, yellow eyes showing no emotion, even with the sight of the brutal slaughter behind them. Felassan became noticeably uneasy as he identified the man by the sight of the thorny crown sitting atop his black mane.

“Elgar’nan!” Solas couldn’t contain his rage. “Why have you done this?”

Elgar’nan’s brow rose in mock intrigue. “Me? From my point of view, I see three traitors standing before the body of Mythal. I see a battle of desire and brutality; a death which could only be done through the power of a God.” Solas understood the implication.

“Why me?” Solas glowered.

“Because you were not meant to return.” Solas was confused as to what this meant.

“That fool King Mar should have been competent enough to kill you, strong as you are without the Orb, but he failed me.” Elgar’nan began circling them as he made his way to Mythal’s remains.

“You gave them my Orb?” Solas was beyond enraged at this new development, “Why not kill me yourself, if that was the plan at all?”

“You know why.” Grabbing the handle of the sword, Elgar’nan pulled it from Mythal’s chest as though she were the sheath. As Mythal’s body fell onto the floor, the Sentinel almost rushed forward to retrieve her had Felassan not grabbed him by the arm to keep him away from Elgar’nan. “When a temple is destroyed, the people rally against the enemy. Their faith grows for what is lost.” Elgar’nan sent a pulse of magic down the blade which evaporated the blood, leaving it as vibrant as when it was first forged.

“How is this any different? Mythal was loved by so many! They will rise-”

“-against the God whom killed her, yes?” Elgar’nan shot Solas a conceited smile.

Felassan could feel the blood drain from his face, “Why?” he asked.

Elgar’nan looked towards the hooded mage, only then acknowledging his presence. “Mythal and the Dread Wolf no longer serve a purpose within the Pantheon. Their ideas have become a plague on the powerful.” Solas remained quiet as he tried to keep his eyes on Elgar’nan while devising a plan of action, or escape.

“There is a hierarchy to maintain. There are no equals in this world, Dread Wolf. And although you may have risen to Godhood from Mythal’s General, you will **never** be my equal!” A wave of rage could be felt across their skin, burning invisibly as Elgar’nan’s anger began to rise.

“You would kill Mythal? You would all kill Mythal and place the blame on me? What have I to gain? How would you even convince the masses to rise against me when I have held their interests above my own?” Solas was becoming more animated, his hair began to saturate with sweat in the heat of the argument.

“Because I am Elgar’nan; I am vengeance. Who would question me when I tell them that you, Fen’Harel, killed Mythal in jealous greed? How you and your agents here, plotted to kill her and take her power to rise against the Pantheon.”

Solas had heard enough. Concentrating his power internally, he unleashed a blast of pure energy which exploded the pergola and sent Elgar’nan and his companions into the air.

Felassan lay confused on the ground for a moment until he felt a strong hand pull him onto his feet. As his hearing began to slowly return, he saw the Sentinel on the ground several feet away, curled into a fetal pose as though he were hit in the chest. Scrambling as quickly as he could, he helped Solas pull the Sentinel off the ground before making a run towards the Eluvian.

Solas dared to not look back until he reached the mirror. As Elgar’nan began to slowly push his body off the ground the grass began to ignite around him and spread. Solas could feel the powerful rage permeate the air around them. Placing his hand on the locked mirror he communicated the passphrase from his mind to the Eluvian, bringing it to life.

Felassan grabbed the dizzy Sentinel and tossed him through the mirror before quickly following him. Solas was the last to pass through, arriving in his temple inside the room which kept the Eluvian to his Sanctuary. Closing the portal behind him immediately, Solas took a moment to gather his breath and devise another plan.

Felassan sat on the floor, hood drooping around his shoulders letting his brown hair show the mess of sweat and tangles as he tried to catch his breath. “Well, fearless leader! Elgar’nan is pissed off and we just became the most wanted people in Elvhenan? So how do you want to go down?” The Sentinel groaned at the pain of his armor being pushed against his body as he lay on the ground. Solas helped each to their feet before pacing in rapid thought.

“We cannot stay! Elgar’nan will kill everyone here and we cannot let that happen!” Solas’ thoughts fled to Dahlia, thinking about how this will hurt her. Kill her.

“You two need to evacuate the temple here. Tell everyone to go home, to leave Fen’Harel off their tongues for their own safety! We must leave!” Solas shouted as he burst through the door and began descending the stairs of the tower, both companions in tow.

“Where are you going?” Felassan shouted, mimicking his friend’s aggravation.

Solas stopped to look back at them, “Once the temple is clear, meet me back at the Eluvian! Hurry!” The Sentinel nodded without hesitation and ran pass Solas into the grand hall of the temple, determined to complete his task. Felassan shook his head in confusion as he followed suite, “I woke up this morning a normal spy, you know. Now I’m to be one of the most hated people in the world.”

****   
Dahlia stood by the window in her small area of the clinic, fanning her face with a worn feather fan when she heard a loud commotion erupt from the waiting area outside. Placing the fan down on the window’s edge, she rushed to open her door, “What the hell is going on out here!”

Before even realizing what the panic was, Solas burst through her door into her room, slamming the door behind him. “Solas! What-“ He grabbed her face and brought his lips down on hers; Dahlia felt no passion, only desperation and fear. 

“Please! I need you to go home!” The look in his eyes scared Dahlia the most. “That can wait, can’t it? What’s happening?” Solas wanted to shout, to scare her into leaving but he hoped that the circumstances would make her see reason.

“I want you to go home. I want you to go home to your parents. Never return to Arlathan, do you hear me?” Dahlia’s face twisted in confusion, “What? No!”

Solas’ anger at her stubbornness made him lightheaded. “You will die if you stay here! The Pantheon will raze this temple and kill everyone inside! Why must you be so stubborn?” His temper was riding his words as he spat them at Dahlia, “You never do as I say, even if it’s to protect you!”

“Shut up!” Dahlia hoped her words would snap him out of his fit. “What about you? I’ll be safe, but for how long? And where will you be? You would worry me to my grave!” Dahlia grabbed her satchel and began pulling herbs and jars from her shelf and packing them tight.

“What are you doing?” he asked, running his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.

“What do you think, ass? I’m gathering my supplies and I’m coming with you!” Solas was so angry at that moment that he wished he would just explode into a cloud of ash.

“No! I’m being framed for the murder of Mythal! They are going to be hunting me!”

Dahlia tightened the belts on her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder, “You can’t stop me from following you!” 

At that moment Felassan burst through the door, staff in hand. “Everybody out! Oh.” Felassan was surprised to see Solas inside the healer’s room with a woman and a rucksack. “You’re bringing the healer?”

“No!” Solas shouted.

“Yes!” Dahlia quickly shouted back.

Felassan was growing impatient the longer he stayed in one place, “Whatever! That Sentinel is clearing out the rest of the temple! What ever your plan is, we gotta’ go!”

Solas looked back to see Dahlia, seething up at him, “Lead the way, asshole!”

A sudden explosion was heard as the sound of violent fire was pushed towards the temple. Solas had no more time to argue, or to see her safely out; the siege on the temple had blocked them from the exit. 

Solas grabbed her arm and led her out of the clinic into the main hall where he could see the Sentinel rushing through the doors, up to the tower steps. Running to the stairs Solas stopped before ascending. Casting a dozen summoning circles in the hall, Solas asked for the temples guardian spirits to come forth and suppress the intruders before leading Dahlia up the stairs to the Eluvian where the Sentinel and Felassan waited hesitantly.

Solas could hear the fighting and yelling down stairs as Elgar’nan’s army breached his doors and flooded the main hall. Closing the great doors behind them, Solas summoned one more spirit to assist. “When we are all through, break the mirror behind us!” The spirit gave no resistance with his order and waited patiently for his task.

Solas placed his hand on the locked mirror, letting his power signal the mirror to open and take them somewhere far and safe.

Once Felassan and the Sentinel walked through the mirror, Solas and Dahlia looked at one another for a brief moment. Solas could see the worry and fear on Dahlia’s face, and in truth he felt the same for her.

As she stepped through the mirror she held onto his hand to make sure he wouldn’t leave her behind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is going to be sad.

“What do you mean they think you killed Mythal?!” Dahlia was practically screaming. Hours of running through the crossroads had exhausted the small group until they came upon an old ruin long abandoned with an intact Eluvian. Becoming successfully lost and confident that no army could follow their trail, Solas stopped the party to rest for the night.

The crumbling walls of the old ruin exposed them to the rain outside, but they managed to construct a small shelter using scraps of canvas and the faded banners which littered the old fortress.

“Elgar’nan killed Mythal and baited us to take the blame.” Solas felt the weight of devastation bearing down on him now that he had a chance to recover. Mythal, his oldest friend was gone; he did not have the strength to argue or even yell in his defense. 

Dahlia sat beside their small fire, trying to keep her breath calm and quiet underneath her rage and anxiety. They were wanted. There would be no where to turn for sanctuary so long as they were confirmed to still be breathing.

“What are we going to do? What will happen to us?” she panicked. “We sit here and cry for a few days. Then we make a home in the trees and live as rustic, backwoods elves until they grow bored and begin dividing the silverware,” Felassan commented.

Dahlia looked towards the aloof stranger, red faced and ready to scream before Solas placed a hand on her shoulder, “Felassan. Now is not the time for your jokes.” Solas tried to keep his voice in control, but the fact was he was just as panicked as she.

“There’s never a better time for humor,” he gave a morose smile as he watched the tiny flame of their campfire try to stay alive underneath the dampening shelter. “Otherwise we just loose our minds. Start living in trees. Eating berries while we wait for them to give up and loot our temple for cutlery.”

Dahlia heart began to flutter with panic, seeing no humor in their current situation. “This can’t happen,” her voice broke, “It can’t happen now. Not now.” her voice betrayed her misery as she walked away from the camp, arms wrapped around her chest in a modest attempt at warmth. Solas was at a loss on how to console her, but followed her hoping his presence might be enough to at least calm her down.

She walked through broken walls and empty doorways, knowing Solas was careful to be a few steps behind her, until she came to a small store room which remained mostly intact. The smell of damp, moldy wood was so unpleasant that it almost sent her back out the room, but Solas stood in the doorway. She turned around to see him watching her with a worried expression; her eyes were red and stained from her wet makeup, but she held his gaze. She bit her bottom lip to keep her lips from quivering, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone trying to put up her strong face.

He watched as she began furiously wiping her nose as she turned her head away from him; she was determined to try and keep expression placid, but he watched as her defense began slowly crumbling away.

“Please,” his voice pleaded, low and calm, “please, come back to the fire.”

She looked down at the ground, watching the water from her hair hit the floor between her feet. “Then what?” she sighed, the depression hit her hard and she felt as though everything in her world was dying. She included.

Solas had to think. As the moment stretched on into an uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke, “I don’t know.”

She would admit that she expected that answer, but the despair from hearing it was simply too much. She sat down on the floor, folded her hands into her lap and silently wept. She cried, wishing her tears could wipe the slate clean; she felt the only way out was death, and she almost accepted that fate.

Solas walked quietly over to her seated figure and knelt beside her, trying to coax her to stand once more. He extended a hand, but she wouldn’t take it. He could feel her slipping away in her despair; it was like a shadow was slowly devouring her, determined to take her away from him.

“I never wanted to be a God,” he whispered, “but I indulged in its gifts, regardless.” He wasn’t sure she was listening to him, but he continued, “Mythal brought me into the Pantheon as her General, or protector and advisor, but as time went on there was no mistake that I was as much a part of the Pantheon as Elgar’nan or Andruil.”

“Why tell me that,” she spoke softly, “I don’t care about that; none of it. What does it matter now?” He swallowed hard, but continued with his story. “I’ve done many despicable things, all while saying it was for the good of our people...”

“Enough!” she yelled. There were no tears in her eyes, but their redness made her anger that much more intense. “I said I don’t care about that! None of that matters now!” she stood up from her seated position to glare down at him. 

“Don’t give me that back story nonsense! Our lives are ruined,” she tried to keep her voice down, but the echo from the walls made her sound louder than she intended. “Those fucks. Those fucks! They’ve ruined you and us! We can’t go back so how will knowing this bullshit about you make it any better? You don’t know what’s at stake,” her rant made her feel dizzy. She took in several deep breaths to regain her composure enough to speak, “Please. Just lie to me. Just lie and tell me everything will work out in the end. That all this bad shit will just go away and we can just...settle,” she took a step back and wanted to retreat into a corner, but a hand quickly caught hers. She looked back to see Solas, tormented but silent in his anguish.

Her eyes darted across his face, reading his expression as though she could hear inside his skull, but she said nothing. The longer she watched him, the tighter her chest felt.

Finally he spoke, “I can’t lie to you.”

“Why not? You can keep things from me apparently, but you can’t lie to me?” she tried to pull her hand from his, but he held on firmly to keep her anchored. “Let go! Let go of me!” she tried to pull again, but he would not release her hand.

She finally gave up and stood there with her fist clenched. Her arms felt numb from rage, but she waited until he would finally let her go. 

She tried to think of any excuse or action that would let her walk away, but he continued to hold her hand; watching in with sorrow clearly displayed across his face.

“I know what’s at stake. How could I ask you to stay with me? I just want you to be safe, but I would only lead you down a path of death,” his voice was barely above a whisper as he gently pinched her knuckle, rolling it between his fingers.

“That’s not it,” her voice was surprisingly calm, considering her outburst from before. “I would follow you anywhere in this world. But this? This is suicide for us both. Please,” she pleaded, “please. Just walk away. Let them do whatever it is they want. Let them tear down the temples and let us just live alone together. What can we do alone against the Pantheon?” 

He looked up from her hand in surprise. The thought of letting it all go was so appealing, but he knew he couldn’t let the Pantheon get away with their greed, “I can’t. They killed Mythal. There will be no peace for us or anyone in this world if that is left unchecked. They will enslave, rape, and torture those which they feel are unworthy. The world will cease to exist as we know it,” he shook his head gently as he returned his eyes to her hand. 

The tears she felt had dried where now pouring down her face unnoticed. She felt as though she had no option but to remain, until death, if she wanted to stay with him. 

“We will die,” her voice came from deep within her chest as she sobbed. ”You will not. I will do everything I can to ensure that never happens to you,” he was quick to reassure her. “Even then, you might,” she began to shudder, even as he gathered her into his arms and held her tight.

He had no other words of reassurance to give her. The entire day felt as though they had done nothing but run for their very lives, and yet the feeling of safety would not come even as they rest. 

They found a small pile of wet straw and threw an old sheet of burlap over the top. Taking off his armor plates they sat there propped up against the wall, listening to the water pour into the pools on the other side of the room. He wondered if the others were worried they had left them. She held his fur pelt over her shoulders, petting the coarse hair as though she were soothing an animal. He watched her as she tried to calm herself down, keeping his ears focused for the approach of their companions.

“It’s been a few months,” she said, finally breaking the silence between them. He wasn’t sure what she meant. It’s had been a few months since a lot of things had happened. “Since what?” he inquired softly. 

She sat in silence, keeping her eyes focused forward. Her breathing became shallow, but quiet. The light headed feeling she had earlier was slowly creeping back, but she tried to keep her composure.

He gathered her into his lap, letting her head rest against his chest; almost forgetting she had said anything at all. Gently, he raised his hand to her cheek and placed his lips over hers. She felt cold to his skin, but he didn’t break away. As he removed his lips, he stared down at her face, silently pleading with her to forget their problems for a moment.

Her face fell as she let her head rest once more against his chest. Finally, she broke the silence as he held her tenderly.

“I’m with child.”


	5. Chapter 5

Solas buried his face in her neck as he held her tightly in his lap. He tried to think of the turning point leading up to this day's events that could have prevented their current situation; one that could have led up to this revelation with joy rather than fear. 

Could he have received his messages earlier? What if he had told Mythal last night instead of waiting until today? Could she believe him? That her own husband, even her own children would consider rending her body in twain for power? For influence? His mind bounced back and forth between that morning and the present; both feeling so far away from each other that it was hard to believe it all occurred in a single day. 

He almost forgot they were sitting in the corner of a musty room on some rotten straw, holding each other in complete silence for what felt like hours. He didn't want to be the first to speak, but felt as though that was what she was waiting for. Some response to show he had a plan for them, now and in the future. 

"Say something. Please," she whispered, "even if it's the first thing in your mind. Just tell me something." 

He drew his head away from her shoulder and took a deep breath before letting it out, still compiling the words in his head. "My mother, she would threaten me," he started with sigh, "she would always threaten me by saying, 'I hope you have a child that acts just like you one day!'" He gave her a soft smile, hoping she would see the humor in his little joke. She looked into his eyes, brow furrowed, amusement clearly absent from her face. This was not the reaction he was hoping for, but could hardly blame her considering their current circumstances. "I apologize. That was the first thing that came to my mind just now," he looked away, thinking again for something more reassuring. 

"Tell me," she grabbed his chin and aimed his face at her once more, catching his eyes with a dead-serious expression, "if you could do anything at this very moment, what would it be?" 

The question erupted several answers in his head. He wanted to retire with her alone somewhere. Somewhere peaceful without the worries of war growing near. A place where they could raise their child, and perhaps have more. Whatever she wanted. But that was a fantasy, not a proper answer. With the Pantheon left unchecked to amass a growing hatred of followers and armies to sweep the world for them, there would be no respite. 

His expression went serious with hatred as he looked into her eyes, mimicking they're anger, "I would destroy the Pantheon if I could." 

She studied his face, noting the hardness of his eyes and gave him a small nod, "then you have to find a way to do it, don't you?" He was slightly taken aback by her response, giving a slight hope she would revert back to her former argument. How they should leave it all behind, hide, and hope they could survive a normal existence. Solas found nothing but determination in her stare. They both came to the same conclusion, that at that moment it was impossible. It was a dream, but one they could strive for. 

Wiping her nose, she stood up and looked down at him waiting for him to follow suit, "Lets go back to the fire." 

 

**** 

Throughout the night they each took turns pulling guard until the sky began to glow dimly, but before the sun could be seen. Before leaving, they smashed the mirror and cloaked their bodies in crudely made hoods and robes made from the faded banners surrounding the old keep and set foot on the path leading out. 

Hours were spent walking thin and faded deer trails in hopes a road or sign would lead them to the closest village or city. They were feeling weak and dehydrated, made worse from the humid heat of the forest, but they pressed on. 

Felassan wiped the sweat from his brow, addressing the party with exasperation, "Should we stop and make a camp? It may soon become dark and I want to at least have a chance at finding food while there is still daylight." 

Solas looked at each face while silently noting the exhaustion displayed before him, "We will wait here and rest for a moment. Felassan, trek to the top of the hill here and see if there is a village somewhere close." 

Letting his head droop slightly to his shoulder, Felassan gave a sigh in defeat, and used his staff as an aid to climb the remainder of the hill. 

Dahlia sat down on a fallen log off the road, hidden away among the tall foliage while Solas stood to the side of the road, watching for any travelers as he waited for Felassan to report back. The Sentinel seated himself at he base of a tree several feet in front of Dahlia, keeping his hood low and his eyes away from her direction. Dahlia chewed on the inside of her lips, breaking the dry skin away with her teeth as she watched the man sit in silence. 

"You hurt?" She finally called out to him. 

"No," his response was quick and forceful. 

"You got a name?" She wasn't in the mood to be discarded so easily, but she wanted to know what sort of company she was traveling in. Felassan was already showing to be a pain in her backside, but she held out hope this one was at least more serious. Perhaps too much for her liking. 

"I did, before my failure. But now I have none. I won't be needing one for much longer anyhow," he spoke clearly, keeping his eyes away from her in perhaps what could be best described as either defiance or withdrawal. 

"Then what do I call you?" Her patience was starting to wear thin with this display of social evasion, but she was determined to get an answer. 

"You needn't call me anything," he said in annoyance, "I was once a high priest to Mythal. I failed in my duties to protect her. I should have died at her side," he wanted to keep it at that, but she continued to press for a name. "You are an insufferable woman," he finally directed his eyes towards her, giving her a cold stare in the hopes she would be pacified. 

"I've been told that on numerous occasions, but that still doesn't answer my question. If you no longer have a name then pick one," she matched his stare with solid determination. He sat there for a few seconds before facing the ground in contemplation on whether he would remain silent or give her what she demanded. 

Several minutes seemed to pass and Dahlia gave up waiting for an answer as she looked towards the road, hoping to see Felassan with any news. Sudden movement startled her as she watched the Sentinel stand, peering down at her before speaking, "I am nothing. Whatever I once was had died along with Mythal. I am nothing more than my own sorrow. So if you must call me anything, it would be Abelas." 

Feeling relieved to at least answer her question, Abelas hoped this would keep her from addressing him in the future. Turning towards the road, he looked to join Solas as lookout for the remaining time. Dahlia watched him as he returned, feeling compelled to follow after a substantial rest. 

Walking between the trees, she found herself standing between the two men, each looking up the hill as they waited for Felassan. 

"Abelas," she called to him in a cold voice, causing him to reluctantly turn his face to answer her. "You're a poetic son-of-a-bitch aren't you?" Solas snapped his head towards Abelas, striking him with a puzzled glare after overhearing her address. 

"Are you reciting poetry? To... her?" Solas address him sharply, subtly demanding an answer with a cool voice. Abelas was taken aback at the accusation, darting his eyes from hers to his as he tried to defend himself. 

"I did no such thing. She demanded I give her my name," he pointed to her accusingly. "All I needed was one word," she said, arms crossed in displeasure at having a finger pointed in her direction, "Instead I got a poem about nonsense and sorrow." It was now Solas' turn to study them both, but before he could continue his interrogation Felassan made his presence known to the group as they argued on the side of the road. 

"I would love nothing more than to make the drone feel awkward, but there is a town a few miles away that I'm sure would be a more comfortable place to argue." Felassan drew his hood back, letting the slight breeze cool his sweat soaked hair. This revelation had silenced the party and spurred them into action as they began to trek up the hill to see the sight for themselves. 

 

**** 

The marketplace was rather busy for a late afternoon, but Felassan and Dahlia kept close together in search of any stalls which would sell them the items they needed. Felassan looked around the shops for water bladders and equipment, however the prices were simply too expensive for what they could afford. Dahlia, however, was attempting to haggle for clothes for both Solas and Abelas since their armors would be too conspicuous for normal travel. 

"Lass, yer daft, I can't let these go fer less than five silver. Each," the man's impatience with her attempts were becoming very obvious to everyone around, including Felassan. Giving up on his search for the moment he sauntered up behind Dahlia, eliciting a shock from her as he pulled her away from the shop by her waist. 

"There you are," he exclaimed, "I've been looking for you, my dear!" Trying to play up the married couple act was testing her patience, but all the persistence would grant him was an elbow to the stomach. 

The man at the stall crossed his arms over his chest as he stood his ground, "Yer a stubborn woman." 

"And you're not a very good shop master," she spat. "If you won't give me those, then what can I get for this," she tossed him a small pouch of copper coins. Taking the pouch, he mentally weighed the contents in his hand, his eyes never leaving her glare. He let out a groan, knowing she would not leave his stall empty handed. He turned to his cart, reaching into the back to pull out a bundle of badly stitched clothes. Giving the fabric a quick snap, Dahlia's face contorted when she spied the dust fall out of the old beige fabrics. "Take it 'er leave it," he threw the bundle of clothes on the table as he set the coin purse next to it. 

She looked at the old tunics, noting the smell of dirt and what seemed to be a musky stench. Felassan watched them both in silent awe, eager to see what his companion would do. 

She glared at the fabric as though it offended her, which matched the shop master's. She took the pouch of coins, untied the thin rope, reaching in for several coins before tossing them on the table. 

"You'll get no more than five coppers for the whole bundle." 

 

**** 

Solas let out a long sigh as the party walked into the tavern. The robes he and Abelas were bestowed were less than comfortable, but at least they brought no attention to themselves as they walked through town. 

"At least the guy gave 'em to us for free in the end, if just to get her away from his stall," Felassan chuckled. "We can maybe get the inn keeper to let us sleep in the shed with what we saved. "Felassan walked towards whom he assumed was the keeper, leaving the exhausted party to find a table to wait. 

A few minutes later, a frumpy, older woman came by with a tray full of beer in tarnished steel mugs. Solas tipped the woman as she set down their drinks, letting the smell of stale brew waft up up to their noses. Dahlia eagerly grabbed for the mug closest to her, before Solas clamped his hand down on her wrist, gently. 

"Please, go easy," he said quietly. 

Dahlia let out a small sigh before turning to meet his eyes, "Just one. I really need this right now." After a moment of silence between them, he gave her a nod of trust before releasing her wrist and grabbing his own tankard. 

Felassan sauntered up to their table, plopping down on the hardwood chair as he joined them in this opportunity of solace. "We got a room at least," Felassan quipped, "only one bed though. So, I guess we're going to get to know each other a bit better tonight, won't we Abelas?" Keeping his hood up, Abelas did not respond, continuing to take small sips from his drink as he continued to keep to himself. 

Felassan continued to try and make light of the situation, finding the solemn appearance of their party too much for his light-hearted nature. 

Dahlia could only manage to drink half her mug before pushing it away. Felassan charily slid the remaining mug away from its former owner, taking claim to it for himself. "Shouldn't waste this, I had to pull out my 'doe eyes' to get the lady to give us these," he spoke to her with a smirk, noting how she always furrowed her brows every time he smiled to her. At that point she would have paid any price to watch his head burst into flames, but Solas gave a quick tap of his hand on the table to gather their attention. "Show us the room," he called to Felassan, barely above a whisper, but loud enough to convey the deadly tone he intended. Felassan remained still, letting his eyes scan the room from one person to the next. Men and women laughed, shouted, and generally were preoccupied with their own cheer and issues. The smile never left his face. 

"I was told it would be the bottom floor," he pointed with his finger, wrist still resting on the table. "Down the hall, first left, second door on your right," Solas gave a nod and placed his hand gently on Dahlia's back in a kind gesture, gently begging her to follow him. Dahlia saw the hidden language in which they spoke to each other, trying her best to keep her confusion from showing on her face. "Yes," she spoke more to herself than addressing the others, "I think I may need to lay down." 

Solas walked gently behind her in the direction they were told, meanwhile Felassan sat back against his chair with his arm draped lazily behind the back. Picking up his drink he began to sip it weakly as he watched them leave; or rather, watched after them. 

"We'll become the best of friends, won't we, Abby," Felassan cheered to himself. 

"Do not call me that," Abelas spoke firmly, trying his best to maintain his composure. "But I like Abby! It's a name that brings out your eyes," his normal smile widened into a huge, playful grin as he stared towards Abelas, who only met his gaze with a bewildered look of disproval. "What do you hope to gain through this aggravating display?" Abelas spat. 

"Dinner maybe? Or perhaps a nice diversion," Felassan whispered, "Just to see what happens."


End file.
